Twisted Beauty
by Vibrant Spectrum
Summary: Your blood for my beauty." Every year, on the Eve of Halloween, a young woman would mysteriously vanish, chosen to participate in Yumichika's annual blood-harvest beauty ritual. A Halloween fic.
1. Original Version

Surprise! Here's a little Halloween fic I cooked up. Please beware, it's my first Halloween fic, and I had no plan to even begin writing one until the date below, so sorry if it's not very up to standard.

You will probably compare this with all the other Halloween fics that will appear about the same time as this one. Please remember to give good advice or links to fics which you think are well written and can be compared with this one.

I've had this idea running around in my head for some time now. Initially, I didn't want to write it at all. However, when I realised that Halloween was coming, I figure I might as well write one for it and kill one of the wildly random ideas in my head.

Started: 25th October 2008, Saturday, 11:02 am.

Ended: 31st October 2008, Friday, 12:31am (yes, at night)

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I would make this sound nicer, but I'm too sleepy right now…

**Twisted Beauty**

_Swish_. A shadow leaped from streetlights to rooftops, searching for something.

The shadow landed softly outside the window of a double storey house. Peering in, it seemed satisfied at what it saw. The figure opened the window quietly and slipped inside, where it spent a few moments staring at a female asleep on its bed.

The girl was in her late teens or early twenties. Her black hair, which was perfectly straight, reached all the way down to the small of her back. Her smooth fair skin, which gleamed a silvery white in the moonlight, had a perfect complexion. The delicate cheekbones on her slender face made her look dignified and elegant.

"So… Beautiful…" The shadow breathed. It reached out its hand to caress the cheek of the female. She tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against his hand, smiling lightly.

The figure smiled as it picked her up and cradled her. The female seemed to like its warmth, cuddling closer to the shadow. It held her closer before it took a flying leap off her bed and out the window.

The two of them travelled over houses and electrical wires, unseen by anyone, until the figure unsheathed its sword. Stabbing it into the air before it, the sword appeared to pierce something and the front half of the sword vanished.

"Unlock!" The figure turned its sword ninety degrees and a Japanese door materialised and opened. The figure, accompanied by two black moths with purple markings, carried the girl through the door, and it slid shut behind him.

* * *

"Eh… Huh? W-what's going on? Is anyone there?" The voice of the girl, Sentoharu, was laced with desperation.

"Shh… Don't talk like that, with such fear in you voice. It's not beautiful. What is your name?" The figure stared at Sentoharu hungrily. The girl had been chained to a brick wall with her arms over her head and a ring around her waist which kept her secured to the wall, and she had been blindfolded.

"N-not until y-you tell me what you want with m-m-me." Sentoharu was defiant despite the fact that her voice shook.

The figure smiled again. An almost beautiful personality along with a beautiful face. It was a shame she was not perfect, or else it might have reconsidered what it was about to do to her.

"It would not be beautiful of me to reveal everything until its time. For now, we should get to know each other a bit. My name is Yumichika Ayasegawa. Pleased to meet you."

"…Sentoharu Kurohime."

'_Kurohime? A dark Princess? How ugly!_' Yumichika thought. He said, "Your parents must not be very beautiful to give such an ugly name as Kurohime. Don't worry though; as a beautiful person, I have a duty to put you out of your misery."

Sentoharu gulped as she felt a hand reach under her night gown to feel between her legs. She tried to kick the hand away and discovered that her legs had been shackled to the wall. "W-what do y-you think you're d-d-doing?" She barely managed to stutter out.

"So it hasn't started yet…" Yumichika murmured to himself. "I guess we'll just have to do this the messy way."

"Umm… E-excuse me, Y-y-yumichika, but do w-what exactly?" Sentoharu asked, even though she knew she would probably regret the answer.

Yumichika stroked her cheek delicately, making the girl shiver. "My annual beauty ritual, of course. Without it, I would not be able to stay as stunningly pretty as I am now." He laughed a tinkling laugh and moved his hand to her neck.

Still smiling, he started to explain the ritual. "Every year on this day, I search for a beautiful young virgin maiden such as yourself and bring her to this spot."

"Yumichika, I'm not a virgin!" The girl blurted out, relief flooding her voice.

He chuckled. "Don't bother. I already checked just now. You may be a good actress, but I felt your pulse speed up." He twitched the fingers on her neck, and her breath hitched.

"After I bring her here, I stand her in a tub and pin her to the wall." Yumichika drew his sword, making sure to do so softly so as not to scare Sentoharu so much.

Sentoharu curled her toes and found that she was standing on a wooden surface. _The tub,_ the part of her which wasn't terrified noted absently.

"Then, I take out my Fuji Kujaku and start my annual beauty ritual." Yumichika sliced through Sentoharu's blindfold. As the cloth fell, a trickle of blood rolled down her face.

He continued despite the look of surprise, fear, and uncertainty on her face. "If I'm lucky, the girl will be having her menstruation. I won't have to do anything, and the girl gets home safe and sound, with her memory of the past week or so wiped out."

Yumichika narrowed his eyes in distaste and his tone became more serious. "However, if this girl does not produce enough blood for me, or if she is not undergoing her period, then I will have to search for another source of blood."

He raised his sword. "Of course, it wouldn't be beautiful of me to look for another girl after I spent so long looking for the right one."

Sentoharu thought back to the past few weeks. She had dreamt that she was being stalked by an invisible predator, and the feeling of constantly being watched always pervaded her senses. At that time, she had assumed it was simply paranoia, but it suddenly dawned on her that it was Yumichika who had been following all this time.

Yumichika traced an invisible pattern on her arm with his sword. A fresh line of red followed the sharp tip, and the girl gasped at the sudden sensation of the cool metal slicing through her skin, even though it was only a shallow, albeit long, scratch. "So I have to draw the blood from the most available source, which is right in front of me." A trickle of blood ran down her arm and disappeared down the sleeve of the silk dress.

The sword seemed to be vibrating with anticipation as he placed its tip on her right hip. Without warning, Yumichika slashed it down, cutting through her nightgown and her leg. He dragged it down, following the structure of the bones in her leg, until it reached her slender ankles. This time, the cut was deep enough to sever some tendons in her right leg.

Sentoharu screamed. The fresh gash felt numb at first, and then the searing pain bloomed along the laceration. It felt like someone had just yanked a rusty nail dipped in hot oil across her bare flesh. Her severed nerves shrieked at her mind to end the horrendous pain. Sentoharu struggled, but this only caused the blade to pierce her flesh and scratch her ankle bone. She froze and howled with anguish.

"Yes, scream, my beautiful prisoner. It makes the ritual all the more effective."

He held the blade to her leg again and carved a new, elegant line just as deep as the first. Sentoharu screamed again, her cries stabbing the silent air. This agony was too much to bear; her wounds were raw and felt like there were flames licking at them.

The girl hung her head. Unable to hold a constant cry, she had settled for a tormented sobbing. From the incisions on her leg ran warm paths of blood into the tub, slowly filling it up.

Yumichika wiped away the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry; it makes you look ugly."

Sentoharu jerked her head away from him, not trusting herself to speak. Who knew what this mad man would do if she angered him?

Yumichika hooked a slim finger under her chin and forced it up so that she saw eye to eye with her captor. Instantly, he glimpsed a mix of fear, pain, confusion, desperation, determination and anger. He smiled and all the emotions swirling in her midnight-blue eyes increased three-fold.

Yumichika raised Fuji Kujaku and pressed it to her arm, dragging it in a slow, teasing manner. Another line materialised, and fresh blood flowed downwards, staining her dress. While Sentoharu hissed from the pain, Yumichika had followed the trail and watched it stain the dress.

"At this rate, your dress will be ruined by all the blood. We can't let something so beautiful be so stained with blood, now can we?" He lifted his sword again.

Sentoharu saw a glimmer of hope. "Yumichika, didn't you tell me that I was beautiful? How could you let _me_ become soaked in blood?"

Without warning, the sword whistled through the air and shredded the lovely silk nightgown to ribbons. The pieces fell into the tub along with the newly drawn blood. At this point, Sentoharu had raw lines along her arms, her legs, and the places where the seams of the dress once were, for Yumichika had chosen to obliterate the article of clothing by cutting it up along its seams.

Yumichika answered her question without hesitation. "Sentoharu, would you like to share the same fate as your dress?"

The girl fell silent, with the exception of her tears, which now flowed as freely as the blood from her wounds.

Yumichika continued, "You are indeed beautiful; if you were not, then you wouldn't be here. However, your blood is a necessary sacrifice for a greater purpose, and you should be honoured that you can provide service for such a good cause. Be happy, Sentoharu, that your blood will be used for the greater good." He tilted her head up again, and this time she did not resist.

Yumichika looked into her eyes and saw none of her earlier emotions. Sentoharu had given up… No, wait. There was a bit of fight left in her. She was still trying to hold on to her sanity. _That is about to change_, Yumichika thought as he considered his next move.

He smiled his most charming smile at her and was only slightly surprised when a weak smile graced her own lips. But there was still hesitation, as if she was teetering on the edge of making up her mind about Yumichika.

His last tactic. Yumichika leaned forward and touched their lips together for a moment. It was not much, but he had put in all the emotion he could muster in that one kiss.

Yumichika could almost feel the girl melting in his gaze. Success! Now, all he had to do was harvest the remaining blood. He smirked, glad that the ritual would go smoothly this year as well. After the harvest, all that remained was the disposal of the girl, but that depended on whether she survived or not.

Lifting his sword, Yumichika began to create new paths of blood on her bare body, each new cut deeper than the last. Sentoharu yowled from the pain, but she no longer stared at her torturer with eyes that begged for respite. Now, they were filled with admiration and pride, that she had been given such an important role in this mysterious 'ritual' of his.

"Y-yumichika, what e-e-exactly is t-this ritual of y-yours?" Sentoharu panted, hardly able to hear herself through the unshakable fog of pain. "W-what is my r-r-role in i-it?"

Yumichika considered telling her the truth. If he lied, he would probably lose her loyalty, and would have to break her again. On the other hand, if he was honest, she would hopefully become more loyal towards him. What harm could it be to tell her, he figured. Even if the very notion of the ritual sickened her, there was no way she could escape from her chains.

"As I mentioned earlier, I fetch a beautiful woman here once a year on a certain day. I bind her, just like you are bound now. Beneath her feet, I place that old wooden tub. Then, I use my Fuji Kujaku to lacerate her, and her blood is spilled into it."

Sentoharu glanced down at her feet. Sure enough, a puddle of her own blood was pooled around her feet. She was now about ankle-deep in it, with the level on the rise from her many cuts.

"After I am done with the girl, I take her blood, and I bathe in it. It is part of my annual beauty ritual. The blood of the girl washes away any ugliness I may have stained my beautiful personality with, even though it's highly unlikely. Also, it is fantastic for the skin and the hair; how do you think I've been able to maintain my looks for all these years?

"But the question now, Sentoharu, is whether or not you are willing to give your life's essence for the sake of someone else's splendour." Yumichika paused and looked into her adoring eyes. "Your blood for my beauty."

_Of course,_ she thought. _Anything for one as noble as this gorgeous creature._ However, she had bled most of her energy away, and had to nod slowly instead, although this action alone made her feel dizzy.

Yumichika smiled. "Thank you for your life," and resumed the blood harvest. Her cries of both pain and pleasure blended into unearthly shrieks that rang long into the night.

* * *

Dawn broke, and the Sun spilled its light over the brick wall. In the shadow was a teenager, no younger than seventeen or eighteen. Her naked mutilated body was pinned to a wall, but although her movements had been restricted and her flesh, with the exception of her face, had been slashed to shreds, she was giggling with apparent joy.

Before her stood a man holding a bloodied sword. The weapon itself seemed to emanate an aura of excitement and satisfaction, although the good mood of its wielder might have contributed to that.

Yumichika was bent over the tub, examining its contents. Appearing pleased with what he saw, he straightened up and locked gazes with Sentoharu.

"Y-yumichika-sama… T-thank you f-for sparing my l-life… If it w-were not for y-y-your kindness, I-I wouldn't b-be alive…" Sentoharu mumbled. If not for her powerful determination to watch the every movement of her new love, she would have fallen unconscious from the loss of blood several hours ago.

His lips formed an arrogant, slightly sadistic smile. Choosing not to reply, Yumichika made another incision from the middle finger of her left hand all the way down to her right ankle, where his sword disappeared for a moment below the red substance. He did it teasingly slowly, so Sentoharu had to grit her teeth and express her pain with a long, low hiss. It did not end there.

Yumichika raised the blade four times more and freed more blood, carving a deep path from the tips of her other fingers on her left hand to the wound which led to her right ankle. The girl would have bit on her lip, but it was now so torn and bloody that simply moistening it was a painful chore.

"Before we part, I have one last gift for you, as well as a set of instructions." Yumichika cradled her unmarred face in one hand. He had refused to intentionally harm something that exquisite. He had also not touched her back, the back of her arms as well as the back of her legs as they had been blocked by the wall she had been pinned to.

He brought Fuji Kujaku around to the back of her neck and made a line. Slowly, Yumichika traced the shape of a necklace all the way around her neck. It was the typical shape, similar to a teardrop with the pointed end ending just above her chest. The only thing that was missing was a pendant.

Yumichika turned the weapon around so that the hilt was facing the Sentoharu. He plunged it forward and smashed the hilt at the point of the necklace. When he pulled the hilt away, the skin there was steaming, and a figure of some sort had been burned black into her skin. Sentoharu, of course, had managed to keep from howling. She had become adept at concealing physical pain over the long night.

The blood from her new cut seeped into the burn. When the emblem was filled, the blood glowed coal red, which then turned into peacock blue, followed by a royal purple. Then, the majestic colour faded back to black.

"To remember me by, little one." He murmured in her ear as he sliced through the metal bonds. "Return home now. You will become neither a Hollow nor a spirit nor a Shinigami. Only I have that decision because I am now your owner; the mark on your chest proves that. Only those whom you choose will be able to see you, but remember your wounds and how cruel humanity can be to those who are ugly.

"Go to the human world and haunt them. Use this," he whispered and pushed an elegant blood-red comb into her torn hands. "Seduce them. Sit down with your back to them and brush your hair. They will definitely come to you. Turn around, and if they show any negative reaction, do what you want with them, but try to keep them alive if they are beautiful. They might be of use next year…

"Remember, little Sentoharu. With a body like yours, only I can love you. You belong to me. Now go, and terrorise them! Petrify those who dare to act negatively to your beauty in any way! They are simply jealous. The ugly always are…" Yumichika caressed her bloody form as she fell into a dark pool of fatigue-induced slumber.

* * *

Sentoharu opened her eyes and found herself lying on a rock near the edge of a forest. She was naked, and the only thing the girl had with her was a blood-red comb. Panic filled her when she heard footsteps approaching from the forest.

She remembered what Yumichika had told her, and willed herself to not be seen by anyone. Just then, a pair of twin boys and their father emerged from the forest, laughing and walking along. They paid no attention to her whatsoever even though she had no clothes on and had severe wounds on herself.

_Oh! The wounds!_ Sentoharu examined herself carefully. Her back and face had escaped unscathed, but the front of her body resembled her shredded dress, only instead of open wounds, they were ugly scars. She thought again of Yumichika. Suddenly, a wound around the girl's neck seared.

Growling, Sentoharu touched the scar gingerly and was surprised to find it bleeding. The blood trailed down the cut and filled the strange burn mark on her chest, which then gleamed a royal purple. A voice filled the inside of her head.

_Whenever you think of me, Sentoharu, the wound on your neck opens and causes you great pain. Forget me until next year, when you have collected as many beautiful humans as possible. I will come to collect them when you call._

The voice was still echoing in Sentoharu's head long after the message had ended.

* * *

Yumichika watched Sentoharu sit on the rock and brush her hair from a treetop. He observed as she waited patiently for a lone unsuspecting victim, preferably a human with a preference for women, and turned her back to them while brushing her shining black hair.

He smiled when the person approached her, hopeful for a one night stand with this alluring female, all alone in the middle of nowhere. And he grinned with delight when Sentoharu turned around and attacked the person for staring at her many gashes. Injuries, to her, which she had suffered for the sake of a loved one.

He smiled again and proceeded to Soul Society for his long-awaited bath. Every year, Yumichika worked tirelessly to preserve his face, and every year he brainwashed some poor sap into bleeding for his sake.

From the start, it never really mattered if they lived or not. Sometimes, they didn't survive, but they were always happy to die for their 'one true love'. When that happened, Yumichika simply decapitated them and kept their heads as a trophy, leaving the maimed body to decay.

On the occasion that his prey did endure the nerve-wrecking ritual, they were always grateful for 'letting them live', and somehow managed to convince themselves that he loved them, so he had kindly 'spared their lives'. So he took advantage of them and sent them to the more remote areas, where they could search for his next source.

The mushiness of it all made Yumichika _sick_. Still, he didn't care much what they thought, so long as he was able to attain the blood he needed for his annual ritual.

The Sun was now further up in the sky, its rays striking the tub of blood and made it sparkle like liquid rubies. As he removed his clothes, Ikkaku appeared, leaning on the wall.

"It's the last day of October… I thought I'd find ya' here…" Ikkaku sighed. "Do you _have_ to do this every year? I mean, I know that's what your old teacher said, but…"

Yumichika smiled while he climbed in. "You think he was just joking, don't you?" When his companion nodded, Yumichika continued, "Support me in this. I let you fight, don't I?"

Ikkaku sighed again and walked behind Yumichika. He scooped up some of the blood, now partially congealed, and plopped it onto his head, shoulders, and back. "Fine… But sheese, Yumichika, why do you hafta' be such a _girl_ sometimes?"

* * *

Done. Right on time for Halloween, too. Please tell me if you think Yumichika is OOC, or if you see any holes in this plot, or something along these lines. I might not actually change anything, but all constructive criticism is always appreciated.

I know I should be working on Deliver Us, but Hitsugaya is driving me crazy with his personality and his clothes. Please be patient for the next chapter.

Flame me if you want to. One, I probably deserve it as this is my first Halloween fic, and it is probably not doing so well, and it also has to compete with all the other stuff that's coming out for Halloween as well. Therefore, it may not look as nice as it is being compared.

Secondly, flaming is bad for the environment. Fire causes carbon dioxide, which leads to global warming. As if we don't have enough heat already. Well, go ahead and flame, but keep in mind the above two statements.

Sorry if I'm rambling, but I am kind of tired now. Please try to give constructive criticism. Thank you very much, and I hope you got a kick from reading my fic.


	2. edited version

Thank you so much, people, for giving me your honest thoughts. It's the best thing about reviewers; they are honest critics who will simply speak their mind regardless of whatever it is they think about a fic. Your constructive reviews have helped me to re-write it in a hopefully improved version.

By the way, you might not find that many differences here, but feel free to read again anyway. I hope it has improved in quality.

Disclaimer: Bleach will always belong to Kubo Tite.

**Twisted Beauty**

_Swish_. A shadow leaped from streetlights to rooftops, searching for something.

The shadow landed softly outside the window of a double storey house. Peering in, it seemed satisfied at what it saw. The figure opened the window quietly and slipped inside, where it spent a few moments staring at a female asleep on its bed.

The girl was in her late teens or early twenties. Her black hair, which was perfectly straight, reached all the way down to the small of her back. Her smooth fair skin, which gleamed a silvery white in the moonlight, had a perfect complexion. The delicate cheekbones on her slender face made her look dignified and elegant.

"So… Beautiful…" The shadow breathed. It reached out its hand to caress the cheek of the female. She tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against his hand, smiling lightly.

The figure smiled as it picked her up and cradled her. The female seemed to like its warmth, cuddling closer to the shadow. It held her closer before it took a flying leap off her bed and out the window.

The two of them travelled over houses and electrical wires, unseen by anyone, until the figure unsheathed its sword. Stabbing it into the air before it, the sword appeared to pierce something and the front half of the sword vanished.

"Unlock!" The figure turned its sword ninety degrees and a Japanese door materialised and opened. The figure, accompanied by two black moths with purple markings, carried the girl through the door, and it slid shut behind him.

**BREAK**

"Eh… Huh? W-what's going on? Is anyone there?" The voice of the girl, Sentoharu, was laced with desperation.

"Shh… Don't talk like that, with such fear in you voice. It's not beautiful. What is your name?" The figure stared at Sentoharu hungrily. The girl had been chained to a brick wall with her arms over her head and a ring around her waist which kept her secured to the wall, and she had been blindfolded.

"N-not until y-you tell me what you want with m-m-me." Sentoharu was defiant despite the fact that her voice shook.

The figure smiled again. An almost beautiful personality along with a beautiful face. It was a shame she was not perfect, or else it might have reconsidered what it was about to do to her.

"It would not be beautiful of me to reveal everything until its time. For now, we should get to know each other a bit. My name is Yumichika Ayasegawa. Pleased to meet you."

"…Sentoharu Kurohime."

'_Kurohime? A dark Princess? How ugly!_' Yumichika thought. He said, "Your parents must not be very beautiful to give such an ugly name as Kurohime. Don't worry though; as a beautiful person, I have a duty to put you out of your misery."

Sentoharu gulped as she felt a hand reach under her night gown to feel between her legs. She tried to kick the hand away and discovered that her legs had been shackled to the wall. "W-what do y-you think you're d-d-doing?" She barely managed to stutter out.

"So it hasn't started yet…" Yumichika murmured to himself. "I guess we'll just have to do this the messy way."

"Umm… E-excuse me, Y-y-yumichika, but do w-what exactly?" Sentoharu asked, even though she knew she would probably regret the answer.

Yumichika stroked her cheek delicately, making the girl shiver. "My annual beauty ritual, of course. Without it, I would not be able to stay as stunningly pretty as I am now." He laughed a tinkling laugh and moved his hand to her neck.

Still smiling, he started to explain the ritual. "Every year on this day, I search for a beautiful young virgin maiden such as yourself and bring her to this spot."

"Yumichika, I'm not a virgin!" The girl blurted out, relief flooding her voice.

He chuckled. "You may be a good actress, but I felt your pulse speed up." He twitched the fingers on her neck, and her breath hitched.

"After I bring her here, I stand her in a tub and pin her to the wall." Yumichika drew his sword, making sure to do so softly so as not to scare Sentoharu so much.

Sentoharu curled her toes and found that she was standing on a wooden surface. _The tub,_ the part of her which wasn't terrified noted absently.

"Then, I take out my Fuji Kujaku and commence my annual beauty ritual." Yumichika sliced through Sentoharu's blindfold. As the cloth fell, a trickle of blood rolled down her face.

He continued despite the look of surprise, fear, and uncertainty on her face. "If I'm lucky, the girl will be having her menstruation. I won't have to do anything, and the girl gets home safe and sound, with her memory of the past week or so wiped out."

Yumichika narrowed his eyes in distaste and his tone became more serious. "However, the girl usually does not produce enough blood for me, therefore I will have to search for another source of blood."

He raised his sword. "Of course, it wouldn't be beautiful of me to look for another girl after I spent so long searching for the right one."

Sentoharu thought back to the past few weeks. She had dreamt that she was being stalked by an invisible predator, and the feeling of constantly being watched always pervaded her senses. At that time, she had assumed it was simply paranoia, but it suddenly dawned on her that it was Yumichika who had been following all this time.

Yumichika traced an invisible pattern on her arm with his sword. A fresh line of red followed the sharp tip, and the girl gasped at the sudden sensation of the cool metal slicing through her skin, even though it was only a shallow, albeit long, scratch. "So I have to draw the blood from the most available source, which is, obviously, right in front of me." A trickle of blood ran down her arm and disappeared down the sleeve of the silk dress.

The sword seemed to be vibrating with anticipation as he placed its tip on her right hip. Without warning, Yumichika slashed it down, cutting through her nightgown and her leg. He dragged it down, following the structure of the bones in her leg, until it reached her slender ankles. This time, the cut was deep enough to sever some tendons in her right leg.

Sentoharu screamed. The fresh gash felt numb at first, and then the searing pain bloomed along the laceration. It felt like someone had just yanked a rusty nail dipped in hot oil across her bare flesh. Her severed nerves shrieked at her mind to end the horrendous pain. Sentoharu struggled, but this only caused the blade to pierce her flesh and scratch her ankle bone. She froze and howled with anguish.

"Yes, scream, my beautiful prisoner. It makes the ritual all the more pleasurable."

He held the blade to her leg again and carved a new, elegant line just as deep as the first. Sentoharu screamed again, her cries stabbing the silent air. This agony was too much to bear; her wounds were raw and felt like there were flames licking at them.

The girl hung her head. Unable to hold a constant cry, she had settled for a tormented sobbing. From the incisions on her leg ran warm paths of blood into the tub, slowly filling it up.

Yumichika wiped away the tears from her eyes. "Don't cry; it makes you look ugly."

Sentoharu jerked her head away from him, not trusting herself to speak. Who knew what this mad man would do if she angered him?

Yumichika hooked a slim finger under her chin and forced it up so that she saw eye to eye with her captor. Instantly, he glimpsed a mix of fear, pain, confusion, desperation, determination and anger. He smiled and all the emotions swirling in her midnight-blue eyes increased three-fold.

Yumichika raised Fuji Kujaku and pressed it to her arm, dragging it in a slow, teasing manner. Another line materialised, and fresh blood flowed downwards, tainting her white dress. While Sentoharu hissed from the pain, Yumichika had followed the trail and watched it colour the silky gown.

"At this rate, your dress will be ruined by all the blood. We can't let something so beautiful be so stained with blood, now can we?" He lifted his sword again.

Sentoharu saw a glimmer of hope. "Yumichika, didn't you tell me that I was beautiful? How could you let _me_ become soaked in blood?"

Without warning, the sword whistled through the air and shredded the lovely silk nightgown to ribbons. The pieces fell into the tub along with the newly drawn blood. At this point, Sentoharu had raw lines along her arms, her legs, and the places where the seams of the dress once were, for Yumichika had chosen to obliterate the article of clothing by cutting it up along its seams.

Yumichika answered her question without hesitation. "Sentoharu, would you like to share the same fate as your dress?"

The girl fell silent, with the exception of her tears, which now flowed as freely as the blood from her wounds.

Yumichika continued, "You are indeed beautiful; if you were not, then you wouldn't be here. However, your blood is a necessary sacrifice for a greater purpose, and you should be honoured that you can provide service for such a good cause. Be happy, Sentoharu, that your blood will be used for the greater good." He tilted her head up again, and this time she did not resist.

Yumichika looked into her eyes and saw none of her earlier emotions. Sentoharu had given up… No, wait. There was a bit of fight left in her. She was still trying to hold on to her sanity. _That is about to change_, Yumichika thought as he considered his next move.

He smiled his most charming smile at her and was only slightly surprised when a weak smile graced her own lips. But there was still hesitation, as if she was teetering on the edge of making up her mind about Yumichika.

His last tactic. Yumichika leaned forward and touched their lips together for a moment. It was not much, but he had put in all the emotion he could muster in that one kiss.

Yumichika could almost feel the girl melting in his gaze. Success! Now, all he had to do was harvest the remaining blood. He smirked, glad that the ritual would go smoothly this year as well. After the harvest, all that remained was the disposal of the girl, but that depended on whether she survived or not.

Lifting his sword, Yumichika began to create new paths of blood on her bare body, each new cut deeper than the last. Sentoharu yowled from the pain, but she no longer stared at her torturer with eyes that begged for respite. Now, they were filled with admiration and pride, that she had been given such an important role in this mysterious 'ritual' of his.

"Y-yumichika, what e-e-exactly is t-this ritual of y-yours?" Sentoharu panted, hardly able to hear herself through the unshakable fog of pain. "W-what is my r-r-role in i-it?"

Yumichika considered telling her the truth. If he lied, he would probably lose her loyalty, and would have to break her again. On the other hand, if he was honest, she would hopefully become more loyal towards him. What harm could it be to tell her, he figured. Even if the very notion of the ritual sickened her, there was no way she could escape from her shackles.

"As I mentioned earlier, I fetch a beautiful woman here once a year on a certain day. I bind her, just like you are bound now. Beneath her feet, I place that old wooden tub. Then, I use my Fuji Kujaku to lacerate her, and her blood is spilled into it."

Sentoharu glanced down at her feet. Sure enough, a puddle of her own blood was pooled around her feet. She was now about ankle-deep in it, with the level on the rise from her many lacerations.

"After I am done with the girl, I take her blood, and I bathe in it. It is part of my annual beauty ritual. The blood of the girl washes away any ugliness I may have stained my beautiful personality with, even though it's highly unlikely. Also, it is fantastic for the skin and the hair; how do you think I've been able to maintain my looks for all these years?

"But the question now, Sentoharu, is whether or not you are willing to give your life's essence for the sake of someone else's splendour." Yumichika paused and looked straight into her eyes. "Your blood for my beauty."

_He is right. It would be selfish of me to not give what I have so much of, _she thought. _I would do anything for one as noble as this gorgeous creature._ However, she had bled most of her energy away, and had to nod slowly instead, although this action alone made her feel dizzy.

Yumichika smiled. "Thank you for your life," and resumed the blood harvest. Her cries of both pain and pleasure blended into unearthly shrieks that rang long into the night.

**BREAK**

Dawn broke, and the Sun spilled its light over the brick wall. In the shadow was a teenager, no younger than seventeen or eighteen. Her naked mutilated body was pinned to a wall, but although her movements had been restricted and her flesh, with the exception of her face, had been slashed to shreds, she was giggling with apparent joy.

Before her stood a man holding a bloodied sword. The weapon itself seemed to emanate an aura of excitement and satisfaction, although the good mood of its wielder might have contributed to that.

Yumichika was bent over the tub, examining its contents. Appearing pleased with what he saw, he straightened up and locked gazes with Sentoharu.

"Y-yumichika-sama… T-thank you f-for sparing my l-life… If it w-were not for y-y-your kindness, I-I wouldn't b-be alive…" Sentoharu mumbled. If not for her powerful determination to watch the every movement of her new love, she would have fallen unconscious from the loss of blood several hours ago.

His lips formed an arrogant, slightly sadistic smile. Choosing not to reply, Yumichika made another incision from the middle finger of her left hand all the way down to her right ankle, where his sword disappeared for a moment below the red substance. He did it teasingly slowly, so Sentoharu had to grit her teeth and express her pain with a long, low hiss. It did not end there.

Yumichika raised the blade four times more and freed more blood, carving a deep path from the tips of her other fingers on her left hand to the wound which led to her right ankle. The girl would have bit on her lip, but it was now so torn and bloody that simply moistening it was a painful chore.

"Before we part, I have one last gift for you, as well as a set of instructions." Yumichika cradled her unmarred face in one hand. He had refused to intentionally harm something that exquisite. He had also not touched her back, the back of her arms as well as the back of her legs as they had been blocked by the wall she had been pinned to.

He brought Fuji Kujaku around to the back of her neck and made a line. Slowly, Yumichika traced the shape of a necklace all the way around her neck. It was the typical shape, similar to a teardrop with the pointed end ending just above her chest. The only thing that was missing was a pendant.

Yumichika turned the weapon around so that the hilt was facing the Sentoharu. He plunged it forward and smashed the hilt at the point of the necklace. When he pulled the hilt away, the skin there was steaming, and a figure of some sort had been burned black into her skin. Sentoharu, of course, had managed to keep from howling. She had become adept at concealing physical pain over the long night.

The blood from her new cut seeped into the burn. When the emblem was filled, the blood glowed coal red, which then turned into peacock blue, followed by a royal purple. Then, the majestic colour faded back to black.

"To remember me by, little one." He murmured in her ear as he sliced through the metal bonds. "Return home now. You will become neither a Hollow nor a spirit nor a Shinigami. Only I have that decision because I am now your owner; the mark on your chest proves that. Only those whom you choose will be able to see you, but remember your wounds and how cruel humanity can be to those who are ugly.

"Go to the human world and haunt them. Use this," he whispered and pushed an elegant blood-red comb into her torn hands. "Seduce them. Sit down with your back to them and brush your hair. They will definitely come to you. Turn around, and if they show any negative reaction, do what you want with them, but try to keep them alive if they are beautiful. They might be of use next year…

"Remember, little Sentoharu. With a body like yours, only I can love you. You belong to me. Now go, and terrorise them! Petrify those who dare to act negatively to your beauty in any way! They are simply jealous. The ugly always are…" Yumichika caressed her bloody form as she fell into a dark pool of fatigue-induced slumber.

**BREAK**

Sentoharu opened her eyes and found herself lying on a rock near the edge of a forest. She was naked, and the only thing the girl had with her was a blood-red comb. Panic filled her when she heard footsteps approaching from the forest.

She remembered what Yumichika had told her, and willed herself to not be seen by anyone. Just then, a pair of twin boys and their father emerged from the forest, laughing and walking along. They paid no attention to her whatsoever even though she had no clothes on and had severe wounds on herself.

_Oh! The wounds!_ Sentoharu examined herself carefully. Her back and face had escaped unscathed, but the front of her body resembled her shredded dress, only instead of open wounds, they were ugly scars. She thought again of Yumichika. Suddenly, a wound around the girl's neck seared.

Growling, Sentoharu touched the scar gingerly and was surprised to find it bleeding. The blood trailed down the cut and filled the strange burn mark on her chest, which then gleamed a royal purple. A voice filled the inside of her head.

_Whenever you think of me, Sentoharu, the wound on your neck opens and causes you great pain. Forget me until next year, when you have collected as many beautiful humans as possible. I will come to collect them when you call._

The voice was still echoing in Sentoharu's head long after the message had ended.

**BREAK**

Yumichika watched Sentoharu sit on the rock and brush her hair from a treetop. He observed as she waited patiently for a lone unsuspecting victim, preferably a human with a preference for women, and turned her back to them while brushing her shining black hair.

He smiled when the person approached her, hopeful for a one night stand with this alluring female, all alone in the middle of nowhere. And he grinned with delight when Sentoharu turned around and attacked the person for staring at her many gashes. Injuries, to her, which she had suffered for the sake of a loved one.

He smiled again and proceeded to Soul Society for his long-awaited bath. Every year, Yumichika worked tirelessly to preserve his face, and every year he brainwashed some poor sap into bleeding for his sake. He always made sure to prepare his sword for the ritual beforehand; Yumichika would coat the blade in a special home-made substance that would make his victim fall inexorably in love with him.

From the start, it never really mattered if they lived or not. Sometimes, they didn't survive, but they were always happy to die for their 'one true love'. When that happened, Yumichika simply decapitated them and kept their heads as a trophy, leaving the maimed body to decay.

On the occasion that his prey did endure the nerve-wrecking ritual, they were always grateful for 'letting them live', and somehow managed to convince themselves that he loved them, so he had kindly 'spared their lives'. So he took advantage of them and sent them to the more remote areas, where they could search for his next source.

The mushiness of it all made Yumichika _sick_. Still, he didn't care much what they thought, so long as he was able to attain the blood he needed for his annual ritual.

The Sun was now further up in the sky, its rays striking the tub of blood and made it sparkle like liquid rubies. As he removed his clothes, Ikkaku appeared, leaning on the bloody wall.

"It's the last day of October… I thought I'd find ya' here…" Ikkaku sighed. "Do you _have_ to do this every year? I mean, I know that's what your old teacher said, but…"

"Look, Ikkaku, it's just important to me, ok?" Yumichika climbed into the tub. "It keeps me beautiful… I don't ever want to be ugly…" He trailed off, gazing back into his memories, when he was once written off as a hideous beast.

**BREAK**

So. This is the edited version of chapter 1. I'm leaving it as a separate chapter instead of replacing it so that you guys can compare the before and after. If you actually reach this paragraph, thank you. Please tell me your thoughts in a review.

Thank you again for reading, and for your constructive criticism.


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